Red Hot, Crystal Clear
by The Angel of London
Summary: [My two entries to the 'Magical Objects Competition', set by CBlack19.] Ronald Weasley has a temper to match his mothers. / Neville remembers his sorting in the midst of his seventh year.
1. Red Hot

**Magical Objects Competition**

_**Howler: **__They're usually used to express anger. Write about someone angry._

Ronald Weasley had shocking red hair, and a temper to match. The usual trigger for his explosive temper was jealousy concerning Hermione Granger and/or Harry Potter, his girlfriend and best friend respectively.

Having known each other since the age of eleven, the three knew each other very well; but no one could deny that, sometimes, Harry and Hermione were closer to each other than either of them were to Ron.

But he ignored it. Or he attempted to. And, for a while, it seemed to work.

While Hermione and Harry, among others, returned to Hogwarts, Ron opted to go straight to Auror training – meaning Harry saw more of his girlfriend in two days than he did in two months. But even then, he somewhat kept calm for most of the time.

But then rumours reached him, about how they were caught in a broom closet by Snape. The pair denied any foul play, but rumours still spread like wildfire. Knowing them, the rational part of him knew it was because they were hiding from the Slytherin Head of House; but his jealous part grew stronger.

Then, it reached him that Harry was visiting Hermione at the Head dorms frequently. Draco Malfoy, Head Boy, was there too, but Ron dismissed the idea of a friendship between Harry and Malfoy, but he grew suspicious.

For months he was told little rumours – after all, Lavender Brown was the gossip queen of the older three years – and it fed his anger. Were he younger, he'd have blown up much sooner, but, apparently, he was more mature.

One Hogsmeade weekend in February, he found the time to meet up with Hermione, seeing her in the flesh after months of impersonal letter exchanging made him happy. But she wouldn't shut up about Harry Potter.

Harry taught her a new spell, Harry was doing so well, Harry was so happy, Harry and Ginny are over each other, Harry made a couple of good friends in other houses, Harry, Harry, Harry.

An hour of this sickened him, and he rounded on Hermione, his face doing nothing to conceal his frustration and anger. "Harry! Harry! Harry! That's all you speak about! Nothing else!"

"What else am I going to talk about? My studies? Don't make me laugh. I only ever talk to him or to-"

"I don't care! There are other things to talk about; example, me!"

"I did, Ronald! First thing I asked you how your Auror training was going! _You _were uninformative _and _you changed the topic to Harry yourself!"

"Shut up, Hermione! You always talk about Harry as if he was a GOD or something! Wake up – he's certainly not Merlin! He's nothing special, but you always pay him more attention."

"Oh, so this is what it's about? Your insecurities and ego? I haven't once done anything to prove your delusions right; so yes, I talk about Harry a lot – how could I not, seeing as I only ever hang around him or Draco?!"

"DRACO MALFOY? You're hanging around him and Harry all the time? Bloody hell!"

"Yes! I am! I haven't got a problem with, neither does Harry, nor he!"

"But I do! He's a filthy Death Eater and a bigot!"

"Not anymore! He's actually nice – if you bothered to get to know him!"

"Oh, so now little know-it-all Granger sides with the slimy Slytherin who tormented her for six bloody years! Does she think she's pretty enough for him, just because she shrunk her teeth a bit and grew her hair! NO!" He mocked, losing control of his unmanageable temper, no seeing the blonde and raven haired men off to the side.

"So this is what it's about. You're with me as a favour? To show me pity? Because I'll never be pretty enough for 'worthy' people? Well, FUCK YOU, Ronald Weasley! Fuck you." With a hidden sob, she ran from him, towards the arms of the very man who made him angry in the first place.

Harry held her as she cried for a moment, before passing her to Draco, who looked up in confusion. "Wait here, I'm going to talk to Ronald." The blonde nodded curtly and comforted the crying girl.

"What the hell was that, Ron?" The Boy-Who-Lived demanded of his best friend.

"What you heard! Stupid girl," he muttered, unaware the other had heard him. His temper was unlikely to subside anytime soon – by then; it'd have been too late, however.

"Just go, now, before either me or Draco – or even Hermione, if she's up to it – do something to make to regret coming at all."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not at all, _friend_."

**I decided to end it here, with the animosity and such, because I think it's not a bad place to end it at.**

**All the anger has been expressed, and, if you hadn't noticed, this had AU elements. **

_**Words: **__774_


	2. Crystal Clear

**Magical Objects Challenge**

_**The Invisibilty Cloak: **__Invisibility. Who's considered invisible in the books? Neville! Write a Neville-centric one shot._

"Trevor!" The young, chubby boy exclaimed in joy, clutching his troublesome toad tightly as soon as it was handed to him by the half giant, Hagrid. He heard scattered chuckles from his new year-mates behind him and he blushed before retreating directly into a new acquaintance, Hermione. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"It's alright, I guess," she sighed as everyone started moving inside the castle, "come on, let's get going."

He trailed behind her, at the back of the group, shuffling along looking at his feet. He, once again, bumped into someone – it not being Hermione this time. He repeated apologies, glad it seemed to be one of the nicer looking people he'd hit.

He was too busy listening to Hermione recite a myriad of spells that he didn't pay attention to Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's dispute, but he did notice the ghosts that appeared all of a sudden, startling various first years – namely muggleborns and those muggle raised.

They seemed to discuss a certain _Peeves _and his troublemaking ways, before taking note of the cluster of children standing together. With a jolly wave and nice words about the Hufflepuff house, the roundest of the ghosts disappeared through the wall, following his companions.

A loud croak alerted him that his toad had escaped once again, but he couldn't see it. However, the stern looking, grey haired teacher in front seemed to have found him, as she held him up and called for its owner.

Clumsily, he stumbled over to her to reclaim his toad for the third time in half an hour, his face bright red as the blonde Malfoy seemed to take pleasure in his embarrassment.

"Keep him in your hands, and don't forget it." Hermione advised him as they were led into the Great Hall, where she immediately started spouting facts about it, quoting her source as the book, _Hogwarts: A History_.

The song came and went, but he didn't listen to it properly, still too worried about the sorting process. What would they have to do with that dusty, ancient hat?

His worries were slightly calmed as he heard and saw people being called up in alphabetical order. They put the hat on, and, seconds or minutes later, it called out one of the four houses. It seemed fairly simple, and he was glad no spell work was to be involved.

"Neville Longbottom!"

This was it. It was his turn to be sorted into his house, where he'd live for the following seven years. Where he'd make friends. He only hoped he wouldn't seem _too _incompetent.

'_Hmm, this one seems straightforward. Not enough cunning or ambition for Slytherin and your thirst for knowledge is only for Herbology. Very simple, not that it's bad at all, no! You would do very well in Hufflepuff; undoubtedly you are a hard worker, and you are loyal. However, I sense you have hidden courage in there, and Gryffindor would suit you best.'_

Neville remained silent, not wanting to say the wrong thing and make the Sorting Hat re-think his decision. If it said he'd do well in Gryffindor, he'll damn well do _great _in Gryffindor.

'_No argument? Hmm, better be _GRYFFINDOR_.'_

With visible relief, he relaxed and shakily stood, walking over to the red-and-gold bannered table. A voice in his head surprised him, and he realised he still wore the hat upon his head. With yet another blush, not the first, and not the last, he returned it to the deputy headmistress and stumbled to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione sat with a spot for him next to her.

"Welcome to Gryffindor, Neville." They told him with big smiles.

He _was_ going to do well.

_**NEVILLELONGBOTTOM**_

It was time for the final battle, he realised, as he walked the passageway to Hogs Head. Three special people were waiting for him with Aberforth, and that night was the night Voldemort would fall. He was sure of it.

Everyone he knew was ready; after a year from hell, they were fully prepared – or close enough – to fight in this battle. The younger years, the third and lower were forbidden to fight; but those in the fourth and fifth years were allowed. But, more than allowed, it was the fact that they possessed enough skill to survive, at least, and injure a bit, but the fourth years would barely survive.

Had this once magnificent school not been infiltrated by the Death Eaters, few under seventh year would have learned many survival skills during the school year. He supposed that was the one and only thing he could, in a strange way, thank the Carrows and Snape for – they taught them how to survive and fight back.

But many also lost their childhood innocence, even Luna Lovegood, who, being a sixth year, was probably the picture of innocence. After her abduction during Christmas, it was slightly harder to act as unofficial leader to the DA. He managed it though, and, recalling his sorting seven years previously, he made a note to thank the Sorting Hat once this all ended once and for all. It'd made the right choice.

**Neville-centric!**

**I decided to add DH-Neville in this as well. Hooray!**

**Entry #2, as you could see, of this particular challenge. (:**

_**Words: **__850_

_**Posted: **__7 January 2013_


End file.
